


caught up in this moment, caught up in your smile

by notthebigspoon



Series: Brandon and Hobbes [5]
Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-11
Updated: 2012-09-11
Packaged: 2017-11-14 00:27:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/509378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthebigspoon/pseuds/notthebigspoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brandon is going on vacation with his boyfriend. Brandon is going on vacation with his boyfriend and his best friend gets to go. </p><p>Title taken from Just a Kiss by Lady Antebellum.</p>
            </blockquote>





	caught up in this moment, caught up in your smile

Brandon is going on vacation with his boyfriend. Brandon is going on vacation with his boyfriend and his best friend gets to go. It doesn't matter that it's only two nights and one day, it doesn't matter that day after tomorrow, they're back to the show and back to reality. What matters is Buster's hand against Brandon's on the armrest in the plane. What matters is Buster's parents picking them up at the airport and treating Brandon like he's one of their own. What matters is being part of a family dinner where he doesn't get sidelong concerned glances that speak volumes about the watcher's concern for Brandon's mental health.

Buster's parents drop them off at Buster's new house outside of Leesburg. It's down a long drive and more than a little isolated and it's the most beautiful place Brandon has ever seen. It looks like something off of a Georgia post card, an old white farm house with porch swing and green fields and shade trees dotting the lawn. He has the sense of mind to say thank you, but only barely, before wandering off through the yard and staring at his surroundings. Just faintly, he can hear Buster tell his parents that Brandon's a little scatterbrained at times. When Brandon has made it up the porch and turned around, the car has disappeared from view down the lane and Buster is smiling up at him.

“Go ahead. I know you want to.”

He doesn't wait for another invitation before dropping to his knees and unzipping his bag. Hobbes springs out and scrambles off the porch and around the house, Brandon hot on his heels. He can hear Buster laughing behind them, followed by the creak and slam of a screen door.

Behind Buster's house is an expansive pasture, just as green and beautiful as the yard in front of it. They charge up a hill, laughing, wind blowing through hair and fur. They've never before in their lives had room to run around like this, not together. The most they could hope for was to sneak off to a park late at night and the older Brandon got, the less safe that was. It's nothing compared to this. They make it to the top of the hill, staring at each other and grinning as their chests heave before splitting off and wandering their separate ways to prowl and explore.

Brandon winds his way through the grass, holding an arm out and skimming the air. The sky is an unreal shade of blue and the air smells sweet. He closes his eyes, worries for a moment if he's dreaming. His reassurance comes in the form of a firm thump to his butt. He pauses, grins without turning around. He starts to peer over his shoulder, blinking when he sees nothing at all. There's a low growl and then he's body checked by six hundred pounds of gleeful Hobbes.

They go tumbling down the hill in a pile, laughing and tangled and skidding against the grass. They roll to a stop, landing with Brandon on his stomach wheezing and Hobbes sprawled out over him. A throat clears and a pair of sneakers invade his vision. Brandon turns his head up, peers up at Buster with a bright grin.

“Looks like you two are having fun.” Buster says slowly, smiling and nudging them both with the toe of his shoes.

Brandon starts to nod in response but a paw to the back of his head plants his face straight into the grass. He gags against his before reaching back and swiping. He manages to get onto his back, Hobbes situated over him. To the uninformed observer, it looks like Brandon is about to be mauled by a wild cat. To Buster, it signals an oncoming slap fight. Brandon reaches out and swats as best he can, thumped straight back first on his head and then on his chest. Hobbes gets his jaws wrapped around Brandon's throat and he shakes, growling playfully, until Brandon taps out on his shoulder.

“I give, I give, uncle!”

Hands hook into Brandon's, pulling him backwards and then up to his feet. He pants for breath, grinning at his boyfriend and then flat out beaming when Buster kisses him. He smiles a breathless 'thank you' and moans, just a little, when he's reeled back in for more. It goes from playful to wantyou in zero point five seconds. He mutters to Hobbes about entertaining himself, flipping the tiger off when he makes a knowing noise before following Buster into the house.

In the bedroom, the playfulness is gone and all bets are off. Buster's kisses are biting and his hands rough as he works Brandon's clothes away from his body before pushing him onto the bed. One hand is planted on Brandon's stomach, pinning him in place as Buster swallows him down whole, sucking hard. Brandon mewls, fists his hand into Buster's hair and arches his back, begs for more. Buster pulls off, says to be patient, ducks his head down again. Brandon looks down at him, follows the trail of Buster's other arm to see the catcher opening himself up for- oh sweet jesus.

When Buster finally takes mercy on him, riding him with rough rolls of his hips, Brandon grips his thighs and digs his nails in until Buster is hissing and leaning down and yanking him into a bloody kiss, coming with a groan of Brandon's name. He clenches around Brandon, muscles drawing Brandon through his own orgasm. They fall apart, panting while Buster (ever the boy scout) wipes them clean with a handful of tissue. Brandon pulls the sheets up to their waists, head thumping back on the pillow.

“You... have the weirdest turn ons.”

“I have a Happy Crawford kink, sue me.”


End file.
